Running Away
by cooroo
Summary: We know that Sirius ran away from home. We know that he went to James's house. But what happened in between? What made Sirius run away? How did James react? What about his parents? This is my take on it. Previously called Brothers.
1. Chapter 1

**Well, it's certainly been a while since I've written anything to do with Harry Potter. A very long time... But I'm glad I did. I've missed it. **

**Which is why this can only be dedicated to one person. This has to be for Japanime1, whose frequent updates on her two stories (read them if you haven't. After reading this, of course) inspired me to start writing Harry Potter fanfiction again. She also inspired me to write something longer than a oneshot. **

**So who else could this be for, after all?**

**I'm not entirely sure where the idea came from. All I know is that I'm glad I've started it. The story probably won't be all that long. Maybe around four to five chapters, and those chapters will probably be around the length of this one. **

**Enjoy!**

It was ten o' clock at night, and sixteen-year-old Sirius Black was sitting in the lounge, staring blankly at the clock, his eyes unconsciously following the seconds' hand, which was moving slowly, too slowly for his liking. He had been at his parents' house for only two weeks of the school holidays, and he was already counting the days until the term started again, until he could go home, back to Hogwarts, back to his fellow Marauders.

"Sirius Orion Black!" The sudden high-pitched shriek came from upstairs and Sirius, after jumping a little, rolled his grey eyes as he slowly stood up from his lounging position on the couch.

Never mind the days. He was counting the _hours_.

"Sirius!"

"I'm coming, mother." His tone was weary, monotonous. He climbed the stairs, his name being screamed again as he did so, and he walked to his bedroom, stopping in the doorway and leaning against the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest. He elegantly raised a black eyebrow. "Yes? And may I ask what you're doing in my room?"

His mother was standing in the middle of the floor, clutching a sheaf of papers so hard that they were crumpling at the edges. In normal circumstances – if there ever was anything 'normal' in the Black household, Sirius reflected bitterly – she would have been looking in disgust at the red and gold colour scheme decorating the walls, floor, and even the ceiling, but she wasn't even bothering to do that.

"What am Idoing?" she was saying. "What am_ I _doing?" Her voice was steadily growing louder. She waved the papers almost manically, one of them falling out of her grasp at the movement and drifting to the floor. "What are _you_ doing, writing to a... to a _P-potter?_"

Sirius simply stared at her. "You went through my letters?" His voice was disbelieving.

"Something I should have done a long time ago, apparently! You will cease your... your _relationship _with this boy at once!"

"No." The word came to his lips so easily, defending his friendship was so natural. He and James had had to do it during the early Hogwarts days, even a little bit during the later terms, and Sirius had no problem doing it at his mother's house as well.

"What do you mean, _no_?"

"I mean no, mother." Sirius met his mother's eyes defiantly. He knew that this would irritate her, but they had been through this before – he also knew that, as long as he gave the right responses when they were demanded, the confrontation would soon be over.

He knew this because it happened every year when he came back for the holidays. If you could call _this_ a holiday! It was a good thing that the Potters always invited him to their house for the Christmas holidays without fail, otherwise he'd have to go through this _twice_ a year.

Of course, he did tell her each and every year that yes, he would stop being friends with James, and she left it at that. During the term, however, she always heard from someone, probably Bellatrix, who, even though she had left Hogwarts already, still had Slytherins writing to her with the latest gossip, that Sirius and James were still going around Hogwarts together and, during the summer holidays, his mother would confront him about it and the argument would begin all over again.

They had been through it seven times now. It had happened twice during both his first- and second-term holidays.

She had never actually gone through his mail before, though.

Right now, she was giving Sirius the well rehearsed evil eye. "'No' is not an answer I will accept, Sirius."

He stared boldly at her. There was no way on Earth that he was going to let her intimidate him. "It's the only one you're getting, mother."

She took two steps forward. "The _Potters_" - she spat the word - "are not acceptable acquaintances, let alone... friends." Judging by her facial expression, it hurt to say the last word. "You told me you had stopped this nonsense, Sirius."

He shrugged his shoulders deliberately. "Well, it started up again."

"The Potters are _blood traitors_, Sirius! They're no better than Mudbloods!"

Now it was Sirius's turn to step forward, his eyes flashing. "_Do not_ use that word around me, mother. Ever. And the Potters are a better family than the Blacks will ever be."

She stared at him for a moment, then laughed, cruelly and shrilly. "The Potters are nothing but a bunch of low down, up themselves, Mudblood-loving -"

But she wasn't allowed to finish her sentence. Sirius had stepped forward again and interrupted her with a hissed, "_Stop saying that_."

"It is what they are, Sirius! Why can't you see that?" She looked at him as if trying to find an answer to her question before speaking again. "What has that school done to you?" Her voice had suddenly become quiet.

"It's not the school." Sirius's voice, too, had dropped in volume. "It's who I am, mother."

"It's not, Sirius." His mother was no longer shrill and hysterical. Within a blink of an eye she had changed her demeanour – she now sounded calm and dignified. "You are a Black. You're not a Potter nor anything else so vulgar." When she saw him roll his eyes, she added, "Count yourself lucky."

"Lucky? For what? To be part of a manic, dark magic-worshipping family? I think I'd rather be a Potter." He eyed her carefully as her expression darkened, and, taking a risk, added slowly, "In fact, I even think I'd rather be a Muggle."

His words were rewarded a second later when he was slapped across the face.

He and his mother stared at one another, their grey eyes so similar, for a moment or two before Sirius turned on his heel and strode out, trying to control his breathing. He hurried down the stairs and, grabbing his leather jacket, all but ran out the front door.

It was only three blocks later that he slowed to a walk, just as rain started to fall. Oh, this was _exactly_ what he needed. He suddenly realised he was clenching his fists and slowly unfurled them, noticing nail marks indented into the palm of his hand. How long had he been clenching them for? Ever since the argument started?

What had made him snap like that anyway? he asked himself as he flipped the collar of his jacket up, trying to prevent the cold rain from falling down his neck. It wasn't as if his mother had never slapped him before. It wasn't a habit, but it happened frequently enough. So why had this one specific time been special?.

But maybe it hadn't been the slap. Maybe it had just been the argument full stop. He _had_ been more irritable than usual lately, sick of putting up with their Pureblood mania, and maybe the slap had just been the final straw.

Maybe he was sick of giving the right responses.

But, right now, the 'why' wasn't incredibly important. The important thing was what he was going to do next. Going back definitely wasn't an option; neither was sleeping on the streets, especially with the rain that was coming down even harder now.

Merlin! And all this was because of a few bloody letters which he hadn't hidden properly!

Sirius stopped in his tracks. _The letters_! Of course – Prongs! He'd let Sirius camp out at his place for however long it took for him to work things out. He knew exactly where the Potters lived, and he guessed he could probably get there easily enough.;

So, which way was the... what was it called? Subway? But wasn't that a Muggle cake shop?

**Well, what did you think? I'm quite proud of it, but maybe that's because I'm the author. I should have the next chapter up soon. I'd love to know what you guys think.**

**Cooroo**


	2. Chapter 2

**Well, hopefully you guys didn't find that this update took too long! I typed it out as soon as I could, but then my dad (my editor) read it through and we've been arguing on changes. Hmph. But his suggestions, it must be said, were very useful, and I definitely appreciate them.**

**But before we get started, two things, the most important being you guys. Thank you a million times over for your reviews! They honestly had me jumping up and down and squealing – they mean the world to me. As for those of you who have put me onto a Favourites list, thank you again!**

**Secondly, yes, the title has changed. Brothers was just a working title, and, well, it just didn't work. In my opinion, any way.**

**With that cleared up, please enjoy this chapter.**

At the same time that Sirius was becoming very lost, tripping on escalators, and chatting up a ticket sales girl, James Potter was sitting on an armchair, his feet tucked up underneath him, and sucking on a sugar quill, frowning at his Transfiguration homework. He already knew the answers to all the questions – in all honesty, they _were_ simple– but he _was_ James Potter, after all. He couldn't simply write down the answers and be done with it. Absolutely not. He had to think of something clever, witty. Something that would make McGonagall smile. He couldn't even imagine how disappointed she would be if he didn't.

Right now, however, the 'Witty Comments' section of his brain had decided to take leave to Jamaica, so he was having a bit of a problem.

Still, he had the rest of the holidays to do this, anyway. There was no rush. So for now it was just him, the soft armchair, the rain thundering on the roof... and that incredibly annoying banging sound. James frowned, trying to work out where the noise was coming from, and then there was a sudden shout from outside. "James Potter! If you don't get yourself to this door _right now_, Merlin help me, I will -"

James didn't hear the rest of the threat. It was drowned out by a large crash of thunder, and James was already on his bare feet, rushing to the front door. He flung it open and there, his fist raised to pound on the door again, was a soaking wet Sirius Black with a fading red mark on his cheek.

"Sirius!" Even though James had recognised his voice, it was still astonishing to see the other Marauder right there on his doorstep. "What're you doing here?"

The other sixteen-year-old was shivering. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah, course you can." James stood to the side and Sirius stepped inside; James shut the door, hearing Sirius's teeth chatter as he did so, and turned to look at him. "What're you doing here?" he repeated.

Sirius hesitated for a brief second before speaking. "It's a long story – c-can I explain later?"

"Um, yeah, sure." James eyed his best friend. He had never seen him like thisbefore, and that was saying quite a lot.

He had, after all, spent the better part of five years sharing a dorm with Sirius. He had seen Sirius pacing up and down the dorm and throwing things at the wall in frustration, complaining non-stop about his 'bloody family'. He had seen a fourth-year Sirius, who had been in an incredibly foul mood most of the day, whirl around in the middle of the Great Hall and, not even bothering to reach for his wand, punch a seventh-year Slytherin on the nose. He had seen a thirteen-year-old Sirius nearly have a complete breakdown after, two weeks into the term, receiving the third Howler from his mother that year. It was the first time out of many to come that James had seen his friend pace up and down their small dorm, tugging at and running his fingers through his hair until it was incredibly tangled, and ranting about his mother to the quietly sitting James, who had always harboured a secret suspicion that the other boy had been trying to hold back tears, and was only talking so fast because otherwise he would start crying.

But not once in nearly six years of friendship had James ever seen Sirius just look... empty. The Black had always worn his heart on his sleeve - his emotions were always showing clearly on his face or in his eyes. He had never bothered to hide them. But right now, Sirius was just standing there, his grey eyes blank, water dripping off him onto the floor, creating a puddle around his feet. There _were_ no emotions to hide. The only thing that he was doing that showed any kind of feeling at all was that his teeth were worrying his lower lip so much that James thought that it was going to start to bleed.

"Sirius?" James spoke softly, as if Sirius was a wounded animal, and he reached out cautiously to rest a hand on his best friend's shoulder, almost afraid that he would bolt away from the touch.

But, to James's relief, he didn't. Instead, he looked at James's face, his eyes getting some of their expression back. "D'you mind if I take a shower?"

"Oh, yeah, of course. Use the one in the guest room – you know where it is. Just leave your clothes outside the door. Tanni will fetch them."

"Yeah, okay. Thanks."

Sirius gave him a weak attempt at a smile, which soon faded off his face, and turned to go. James caught his arm. "Sirius? Are you all right, mate?"

The other boy nodded. "Yeah, fine."

It was living proof of their friendship, James reflected as he watched Sirius walk out of the room, that he didn't believe a word Sirius had said, and yet he also knew that he would hear the truth sooner or later.

Most preferably sooner.

**PAGEBREAKPAGEBREAKPAGEBREAKPAGEBREAK**

Twenty minutes later, James and Sirius were sitting in the lounge together, their hands curled around mugs of cocoa made by the house elf Tanni. Neither of them had spoken a word since Sirius had come down from the upper floor five minutes ago, his grey eyes dark and troubled, and James had asked if he was all right a second time. After reassuring him that he was fine – James knew he was lying – Sirius had sat down and they hadn't spoken since.

Now Sirius, wearing nothing apart from his now-dry jeans, was staring broodingly into the fire. Strands of his wet black hair were falling forward past his ears, the rest dripping water down his back. James, sitting on the same armchair as before with his bare feet, once again, tucked up underneath him, was occasionally running a hand through his already untidy hair and watching the other teen, waiting for him to speak.

But when he did finally talk, it wasn't with an explanation. Instead, it was a question. "Where're your parents?"

"At some dinner. Get-together. Social evening. _Thing_." James waved a hand as if saying _he_ didn't care about and didn't bother with such trivialities. "They won't be back for a while."

"Okay." Sirius was quiet for a few more seconds before speaking again. "I ran away."

"What?"

The sixteen-year-old turned to look at his best friend. "I ran away from home, James." His voice was quiet, but defensive. When James didn't reply and simply stared at him, Sirius continued speaking, his voice growing slightly louder with each word. "I just couldn't take it anymore, James. I mean, is it ever going to stop? Their Pureblood mania, the constant _hate_?" His eyes and tone of voice were pleading for someone to understand what he as going through. "I mean, surely surely at _some_ point they _have_ to realise that they're _wrong_. Right? It can't continue forever... it just _can't_."

How was James supposed to reply to that? He knew what Sirius wanted – like a little boy, he wanted to be reassured, wanted somebody to tell him that everything was going to be all right. But could the Potter give him that? He didn't _know _the answer!

So instead, he simply said, "Want to tell me what happened?"

Sirius shrugged. "I don't know. I just... snapped." He paused, shrugging a second time. "My mother found some of your letters and we started arguing. The usual, you know. Muggle-borns and blood traitors." He grimaced. "And I couldn't take it anymore. I had to leave."

James nodded slowly, thinking this over. It wouldn't ever had happened in the Potter family, of course, but, then again, the Potters and Blacks were polar opposites – everyone knew that – and James couldn't ever see it happening to him... but Sirius was a different matter. "All right." His voice, too, was slow. "I think I understand." There was a pause and a thought suddenly came to James. "You will be staying here, right?"

Sirius shrugged a third time, making out that he hadn't even_ thought_ of that until James mentioned it, but the all too obvious relief showed in his eyes. "Will your parents be ok with it?"

"You know they will, mate. My mum already adores you."

Sirius grinned, his distressed expression fading a little. "Honestly, who doesn't?"

"Prat." James grinned.

"Well," the elegantly haired teen continued, the typical Sirius emerging from the previously quiet, unsure boy, "I guess she has you as a son. Anybody else _has_ to seem wonderful."

The two Marauders grinned at each other, knowing that neither of them could have lived through the previous tension without a joke or two to relieve it. Then James spoke slowly again. "You know what?" He paused for emphasis. "Maybe you _can't_ stay here after all."

**Hope you guys liked it! And sorry about my obnoxious page breaks. I have yet to find anything else that works. **

**I'd love to know what you thought.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Well, hello there! Hopefully I haven't kept you guys waiting _too_ long for this. The beginning of this chapter was horrible to write – I started it three different times. Then my dad went to Hong Kong and I had to wait for him to get home before he could edit it and then I had to do the editing. You guys understand, right? **

**And thanks to i.am.a.griffin for telling me how to use page breaks! The only problem is I'm getting rather fond of my obnoxious ones. That's me for you, too sentimental.**

**Well, not to keep you guys waiting any longer, let's get onto the chapter, shall we?**

The next morning, Annie Potter glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. "Isn't it about time that James was up?"

Harold laughed. "It's school holidays, Annie, let the lad sleep."

"I swear, Harry, sometimes he's lazier than you are." She playfully messed up his hair as she walked behind his chair. "Unless he was reading in bed when we got home, which, knowing James, I doubt, he's been sleeping for more than ten hours." Her husband opened his mouth to protest, but before he could, she added, "And I know it can't harm him, Harry."

He was about to reply, but was silenced a second time, now because of some very heavy footsteps on the upper floor. Their eyes met, and the sound faded, finally dwindling to nothing. Then they could hear thumping on the stairs before James rushed into the room, his hair, as usual, sticking up in every direction known to man. "Mornin', Mum. Morning, Dad." He kissed his mother's cheek before speaking again. "Look, about Sirius, he, um -"

"Sirius?" his father interrupted.

"Yeah, him." James's words were rushing out of his mouth. "He just needs to stay here until he's sorted everything out. I mean, I tried to convince him to stay longer, but you know Sirius. He-"

"Sirius is here?"

"Well, yeah. He arrived last night and-"

But James was interrupted yet again, this time by Sirius himself strolling into the kitchen, wearing the same jeans as he had been last night and holding onto his shirt. It was pulled over his head and then he spotted James's parents. "Oh, good morning, Mrs. Potter. Mr. Potter."

"Sirius!" Annie hurried over to pull him into a tight hug, then held him at arm's length, inspecting him like only a mother could, or so Sirius thought. "How are you, dear? What happened?"

Soon Sirius's story was out and there was a moment of silence before the Black spoke again. "I'm not going to stay here long, don't worry. I was just wondering if you'd put me up until I find a place of my own..."

"Nonsense," Annie said, quickly dismissing the idea. "You're sixteen, Sirius."

"Um, yes."

"Exactly. You can't live alone." She shook her head decisively. "You'll stay here."

"That's very kind of you, Mrs. Potter, but I -"

"Sirius, I would never forgive myself if I let you go off on your own now, and after all, you already have a room here."

Sirius glanced at James, who shrugged as if to say, "it makes sense, mate", then looked back at Annie. "Well, if it's all right with you, Mrs. Potter." He glanced at Harold, but the man was shaking his head at his wife, smiling affectionately.

"I wouldn't have it any other way, dear, you know that. Now, I'd better go fix up your room with Tanni." She left the room and soon the three males heard her talking with the house elf.

"Well, lads," Harold said, starting to stand up, "I have work to do. Sirius." He held out his hand and the boy stood up to shake it. "Good to have you back."

"Thanks, Mr. Potter."

Once he had left the room, Sirius and James simply looked at one another before James spoke. "Well, _that_ was unexpected."

Sirius frowned at his best friend's sarcastic tone. "Hold on, you knew that -?"

"That that was going to happen?" James stretched his arms above his head, grinning. "Well, yeah, pretty much." When Sirius continued staring at him, he shrugged. "What? They're my parents, Padfoot. What did you expect?"

"I dunno. Not that."

"Like I said, my mum loves you. You didn't actually think that she'd _let_ you go anywhere else, did you?" James took the last sip of his coffee as he stood up and walked to the kettle. "Want some?"

Sirius shook his head. "No, thanks. But, um, don't you want to slow down on the caffeine a little?"

James didn't even bother with a reply. Instead, he simply started boiling the kettle.

About ten minutes later, when James's cup was nearly halfway empty, Annie walked back into the room, smiling at the boys. "Your room's ready, Sirius. Not that there was much to do, actually."

"Thanks, Mrs. Potter. I really appreciate this."

"It's no problem, Sirius, you know that." With another quick smile at him, she turned to her son. "And you, Jamie, need a haircut."

James groaned as she reached for her wand. "Mum, it's fine. It'll look perfectly ok if we just leave it alone." Sirius smirked at his words. His best friend's hatred of haircuts was infamous throughout Hogwarts, especially since he let his always-messy hair do whatever it wanted and girls still gushed over it.

"It will not look fine! I saw you when you came home, James Potter. You looked like an absolute ragamuffin. If you want to grow your hair -"

"I don't want to grow my hair!" Indeed, James looked revolted at the thought.

His mother, however, took no notice. She continued speaking as if he hadn't even opened his mouth. "-you're going to have to make it behave. Look at Sirius!"

Sirius jumped – _he_ hadn't expected to be brought into this. "Me?"

"Him?" James obviously hadn't expected it either, or, at least, judging by the look he shot at Sirius, not in front of the other boy.

"Yes. Sirius's hair always looks so... elegant. Whereas yours..."

The two best friends looked at each other, Sirius grinning, James rolling his eyes. This was an age-old argument in the Potter household. Annie would nag James to cut his hair while he would be insisting that it was fine – Sirius, however, hadn't known that his name was ever brought up. He didn't do anything special with his hair either – he grew it because he knew it annoyed his mother, but he couldn't stand it being longer than collar length. But even that was enough to drive her crazy, along with the girls in Hogwarts, though in very different ways, of course.

Finally, James said, "All right, Mum. I'll go for a haircut soon."

She nodded, satisfied. "Ok." She glanced at the clock, James rolling his hazel eyes the moment her back was turned. "Oh Merlin, I'm late!" She kissed the top of James's head, something she could do only because he was sitting down. "Be good, boys."

James shook his head as she hurried out from the kitchen. "Wonder how long I'll be able to put that haircut off for." He downed the rest of his sweet milky coffee and stood up. "Well, come on, then!"

"What?"

"We have to let Moony and Wormtail know, don't you think?"

He practically danced out of the room and Sirius followed more slowly. He should have taken more notice of exactly what James was putting into his drink. When he had discovered his love for coffee in their third year, Sirius, Remus, and Peter had soon learnt to watch the amounts of sugar James was adding to his coffee. A sugar- and caffeine-high James in the morning was _never_ a good thing. At least in the afternoons Sirius could cope better.

Sirius strolled into James's bedroom to find the other boy already sitting at his messy desk, pulling out parchment and quills from the clutter. Sirius spread himself across James's bed, noticing the two new Flying Falcons posters on the wall and the Gobstones set resting on his bedside table. The stones were made from black and white marble, obviously rather expensive. "A gift from my Aunt Sally," James told him when he turned around to hand Sirius a pile of writing supplies. "Open the curtains, will you?"

Sirius dumped the supplies on the wooden floor beside the bed and, after the curtains were flung open, both of them began scribbling their letters. In all honesty, Sirius didn't see what the rush was all about, but most of the time it was easier to go along with James's plans than to argue with him. Plus, he knew that Remus and Peter _would_ like to know where he was.

After scrawling a quick message to Remus, he glanced at James, who was still scribbling away. Sirius was tempted to throw a balled-up piece of paper at him. Knowing James and having received plenty of letters from him, he could guess quite readily that he was writing an incredibly long letter to Peter, most of it hyperactive gibberish.

Sirius had received enough of _those_ to last him a lifetime, even though each one had made him smile.

He stayed still for a few more seconds before rolling over and grabbing another sheet of parchment. Dipping his quill into the ink, he began to write.

_Dear Reggie, _he wrote in his looping scrawl.

_You've probably already heard what happened last night, and I'm sorry I didn't say goodbye. If I had, I know I would have stayed. I _couldn't_ stay – you understand, right? _

Sirius hesitated, thinking about the last sentence, then continued writing.

_Or maybe you don't understand. I guess everything has always been all right for you over there. You've always gotten along with our parents. I just haven't._

_I'm not coming back, Reggie. You know that. I can't stand being there. I can't stand the snobbery and constant insulting of Muggle-borns and 'blood traitors'. How you put up with it, I'll never know._

_I guess that's what made me leave in the end, but it was everything else, too. Did you know that mother went through my mail, and found some letters from James? It set her off on one of her rants and I just _couldn't take it anymore.

_I don't even know why I'm telling you this. You've already heard mother's version, and I already know which one you're going to believe. I guess I just wanted to say goodbye, Reggie._

_Sirius._

The young man paused for a moment, looking at the letter, then placed it in the many envelopes that James, for some inexplicable reason, had lying around the room. He wrote the address on the front of it, then handed it to James, who, after glancing at the address and then at Sirius, tied it, along with the other two letters, to his owl's leg. "Ok, Charlie, three stops today. Remus, Peter, and Sirius's brother Regulus, ok? Go for it, boy."

Sirius watched the grey owl fly out the window, then turned to James, who was tidying his desk, sorting the parchment and envelopes into separate, neat piles. "What'd you say to Regulus?"

Sirius shrugged, even though James had his back to him. "Nothing, really. Nothing that's going to make a difference, anyway."

James turned around and put a hand on Sirius's shoulder. "It'll work out, Padfoot, don't worry." He gave him a sympathetic smile. "Regulus might see sense later."

"Yeah, maybe."

But somehow, that possibility didn't seem very likely.

**Hopefully you guys enjoyed that! It was longer than the others, which I was rather proud of. By the way, has anybody else also ever had to check if Gobstones was spelt with a capital?**

**I'd love to know what you thought.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Well, here it is, Chapter Four! Exciting, huh? Well, hopefully. **

**I don't want to give anything away, so a longer note will be at the end, but man, this chapter was hard to write. Enjoy!**

Two weeks later, Sirius had settled quite readily into the Potter family's routine. It wasn't that difficult, especially seeing he had stayed with them for every Christmas holiday ever since he was eleven. He already knew that Harold had to be practically dragged out of bed by his wife over the weekends. He knew that when Annie started calling everyone 'sweetheart', it was time to leave the room because it was only so long before she lost it entirely. He knew that Tanni adored James, and had ever since he was born, and would do practically anything for him.

"Morning, Tanni," Sirius now greeted the little house-elf, who was dressed in her usual outfit of a brightly-coloured pillowcase.

"Good morning, Mr. Siriuses, sir!" she squeaked cheerfully. "How is you feeling?"

"All right. And yourself?" He still wasn't used to Tanni's undying cheerfulness, morning or otherwise, especially after Kreacher's constant grouching and snapping. Tanni, though, always had a smile on her face.

"Very good, Mr. Siriuses! Thank you for asking, sir!"

James soon joined Sirius and Tanni in the kitchen, and he handed Sirius an envelope. "Letter for you, mate."

"Thanks." Sirius took it curiously. He had received letters from both Remus and Peter two days ago, and had yet to respond to either one of them, so it couldn't be from either of those Marauders. But who else would write to him?

He looked down at the looping cursive so like his own on the front of the envelope and his stomach leaped. Reggie!

He tore open the letter and pulled out the single sheet of parchment, sitting down at the table and starting to read before it was even properly unfolded.

_Sirius,_

_Have you ever thought about having a little more tolerance? _The writing wasn't as neat as it usually was, a sure sign that Regulus was angry. _I don't see why you couldn't have just put up with it. You'll be seventeen soon, Sirius. I think it's about time for you to start growing up and accepted that Mum and Dad _are_ your parents, too._

_But will that ever happen? Honestly? You've always been so scathing about them and I've never seen why. When we were younger, you were Mum's favourite. Don't roll your eyes – you were, and you know it. I was always second best. Nothing I could do would ever be as good as what _you_ did. I used to try compete against you, do something to show Mum that I could do something and you couldn't. But without trying, without even knowing that there was a contest, you still won. Always. _

_It was only when we grew older and you started to argue more and more with Mum that she actually looked at me and for once saw an acceptable son. Then when you were sorted into Gryffindor, I finally had my chance to show Mum that I really _could_ be a good son, the _better_ son._

_Well, the night you left, Mum blasted you off the Family Tree and then came to my room and told me that it was now up to me, that the family honour was resting on my head._

_I guess she saw what I wanted her to._

_But you know what? I'm still competing against you, Sirius, even though _you're off the bloody Tree. _Mum still sits at the table and sighs about you. "He had so much potential. He could have been so brilliant. It's all that Potter boy's fault – Sirius would have sorted himself out if it hadn't been for him."_

_How do you do it, Sirius? You despise Mum so much and you don't even make a secret of it, and yet you're still her favourite son. She'd rather I had been sorted into Gryffindor and made friends with Potters and Mudbloods and still have you, her marvellous first-born son, than what actually happened._

_You used to be my big brother who I'd follow to the ends of the earth, Sirius, even with the constant rivalry, but when I see how easily you can throw everything away – your goddamn family, Sirius – I don't know what you are anymore. Don't bother to reply to this, Sirius. You're lucky your first letter didn't go into the fire._

_-Regulus Black. _

By the time he reached the end of it, the letter was crumpled at the edges from Sirius holding it so tightly, his throat feeling tight and his eyes burning. Reggie didn't actually _mean_ that stuff, did he? He _couldn't_. But looking at the writing, each stroke of every letter so deliberate in black ink, Sirius knew that his younger brother meant every word.

Had he really been his mother's favourite once, a long time ago? Well, she couldn't have always hated him – but had she ever actually preferred him to Regulus? Of course not. The idea was ridiculous. Reggie had always been her baby, the favourite.

But Sirius's train of thought suddenly trailed off. A memory shot to the front of his mind. He was six or seven, and Reggie had just turned five. They were in the lounge, and Sirius had just stolen Regulus's toy train and was wheeling it over the carpet, watching in delight as brightly coloured smoke puffed out of from funnel. Regulus had paused for a moment, staring at his brother, before opened his mouth and wailing. Their mother, an intimidating figure even back then, had swept into the room and taken in the scene within a few seconds. "Regulus," she had said, her tone of voice scolding, "share with your brother and stop making that dreadful noise."

Sirius had smirked. He hadn't even wanted the toy all that much.

Now the sixteen-year-old Sirius dragged a hand through his hair, rubbing the back of his neck. His mother had known exactly what happened between her two sons, so why had she taken Sirius's side? Could Regulus be right? Had Sirius once been the favourite?

And, if so, what had changed that?

It had probably been when he had started to question what was so bad about muggles. He hadn't received a satisfactory answer from his mother, so he had made friends with the muggle girl from down the road, Linda. Her family had been very odd. There had also been some strange devices in her house, especially in the kitchen. And her mother's machines for cleaning! Sirius could remember his petrifying first experience with the sucking machine she used to clean the floor. But they had been very nice people, once you got over the talking picture box in the lounge. And Linda's eyes had been very pretty.

Yes, Sirius decided. The wedge had first been placed between him and his mother when he had started to question her ideals. Being sorted into Gryffindor and befriending James had just driven it in deeper and placed cement over it.

He now turned to his best friend, who was watching him with concern. "Padfoot? Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Reggie... Regulus just told me that I've been blasted off the Family Tree." He tried to sound lighthearted, but the image of his mother brandishing her wand and, within a few seconds, his name being replaced by a small burn was flashing through his mind. He had hated that Tree, _hated_ it, with the names that you knew were only there because these people were typical Blacks, evil and Purblooded, along with its occasional small burns letting you know what had happened to the few people who had gone against all the Pureblood mania.

Sirius had often stood in front the the tapestry, running his fingers over the small burns, wondering what _they_ had done that had caused them to be disowned, and whether the same thing would ever happen to him.

Well, he had his answer now and the entire family probably knew it, too.

He was suddenly aware of James talking. "...tough, Sirius."

Sirius shook himself, "Sorry, what?" He grinned apologetically. "I wasn't really listening, Prongs."

"Yeah, well, I guess I should be used to it by now," James grumbled. His tone was playful, but his hazel eyes were worried. "I was just saying it must be tough."

Sirius nodded. "Yeah. It is. I mean, they're sick, twisted people and I don't even _like_ them, but..." He trailed off, not sure how to voice what he was feeling.

"They're still your family." James shrugged.

"Yeah... I guess so. It's just... Merlin, Prongs, I don't know! I didn't want to be part of it, I _hated_ it... but my mother cut me loose just like that." His snapped his fingers, resting his chin on his other hand, his elbow on the table, staring at the blue-patterned wall vacantly. "How messed up is that, James?"

"I know, but..." James cleared his throat awkwardly. "You'll always have the Potters. You know that, right?"

Sirius turned his head to look at his messy haired best friend, who was watching him with concern. He smiled. "'Course I do, mate."

"Good." James fiddled with the edge of the tablecloth, apparently not sure about what else he could say. "So... feel like a game of Quidditch?"

Sirius hesitated. To tell the truth, all he felt like doing was writing back to his brother. But that would be pointless – his letter probably would just be flung into the fire. If nothing else, Quidditch would get his mind off things. He stood. "Yeah, all right. First one to catch the Snitch ten times wins?"

"Sounds good."

The two of them left the room together, Sirius casting one look back over his shoulder at the letter, one line of it coming back to him. _You used to be my big brother who I'd follow to the ends of the earth, Sirius, even with the constant rivalry. _Was that true? Yes, it probably was. When they had grown older, the two of them had also grown much closer. Sirius's bullying of his younger brother had turned into protectiveness, and the two brothers had often held late night talks in Sirius's bedroom.

Then Sirius had been sorted into Gryffindor. The next year Regulus had gone into Slytherin, and they just hadn't seen that much of each other. The next thing Sirius had known, Regulus had been a typical Slytherin all apart from one thing – his brother. If only Reggie had been a Gryffindor, though... things could have been so different.

Sirius mentally shook himself. Daydreaming about would could have happened with Regulus wasn't going to help. The only thing that might help would be seeing him face-to-face, sitting him down and making him listen. And even that was dubious.

What was bothering him the most, though, wasn't what could have happened. It was that Regulus had told Sirius how much he cared for him, even if it was through a letter. Did he know, did he even suspect, that Sirius would do absolutely anything on Earth for his younger brother?

**Well. That was disheartening, don't you think? Writing this chapter absolutely broke my heart. I felt so bad for what I was doing to the poor Black brothers. Don't worry – it might have a happy ending. **

**As always, your opinion is more than appreciated. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Ack! I can't believe it's taken me so long to get this up. I'm so sorry, everybody! Things have been totally chaotic over here. My family and I had to move to Canada in October and then we've been trying to settle in, leaving me very little time to write. Still – no excuses, right? Hopefully the chapter is worth the wait! **

Sirius sat at his desk in his room, spinning a quill between his fingers. Crumpled balls of parchment were scattered around him, on both the floor and desk. Sirius sighed, leaning forward to put his face in his hands, elbows resting on the desk. Why was he even doing this? It was just so _stupid_. But even as the thought went through his mind, he was pulling another, smooth piece of parchment towards him. After thinking for a moment, he started writing yet again.

_Dear Regulus,_

_I guess I was right. The letter I sent you was pointless. But before I read your reply, I couldn't help feeling like maybe a miracle had happened and you were on my side about the whole thing. Well. Guess not._

_I just want you to know that - _

A second after writing the last word, Sirius crumpled the letter and threw it against a wall. It

bounced off and landed on the floor as he pulled both hands through his hair. This was so _pointless_. He knew that his brother wouldn't read it, so why was he attempting to let a bloody _piece of paper_ know what he was going through?

Because there was a chance, no matter how slim it was, that Regulus just might be curious enough to read it. Sirius couldn't stand the thought that his brother didn't know how much he cared, but every time he had tried to write the letter, it came out either sounding too harsh or he didn't manage to say it at all.

There was a sudden knock on the door, pulling Sirius from his thoughts. He leant back in his chair, calling, "Come in."

James entered the room. He looked around at the desk and floor, then at Sirius. Raising an eyebrow, he asked dryly, "Writing to Regulus?"

"Trying to," Sirius replied. "It's not working."

"It hasn't been for a couple of days," James pointed out, leaning against the door frame. "Maybe it's just not a good idea, Sirius. You'll be seeing him at Hogwarts, right? You'll be able to make him listen there. It's too easy for him to ignore letters." Casting a glance at the mess of papers, he added, "And it's easier for you to talk than to write, apparently."

"Shut up, James," he said good-naturedly, idly starting to draw a stick figure on a nearby piece of paper. As he sketched in what was meant to be a dog, he looked up at his best friend, his grey eyes contemplating. "It's about two more months 'til we get back to Hogwarts. I don't know if I can wait that long."

"Always in a rush," James muttered, walking over to the bed and sitting on it. Despite the sarcasm in his voice, his eyes were sympathetic. "Look, Sirius... I know you feel guilty about leaving him, but he is fifteen. I'm sure he can cope perfectly fine."

"He shouldn't have to, James!" Sirius slammed a hand onto the desk. "I should be there. Now _he's_ going to have to listen to all of mother's crazed ravings. He doesn't know how to cope with that!"

James didn't know whether to grin or to sympathise. Sirius was exactly like James's mum – he had "letting go" issues. He just didn't know how to accept that Regulus was growing up and, despite Sirius's belief that he couldn't, could cope with most things that would come his way. Of course, he had never been hurt by somebody who was meant to love you. Sirius had.

He had been thinking a lot about his younger brother lately. James knew he had. You weren't best friends with someone for five years without knowing what they were thinking at least some of the time, and he knew that Sirius wasn't just thinking about Regulus. He was worrying himself sick, and because of this, James was worried about Sirius. He had noticed the dark rings under Sirius's eyes – he knew that his best friend wasn't sleeping well. He had taken it upon himself to do his best friendly duty and distract Sirius in any way he could. James knew that Regulus would come around eventually – he just needed to convince Sirius of that.

"I'm sure he'll be fine, Padfoot. Your mum isn't going to, um..."

"Go stark raving mad and start ranting at him?" Sirius grinned bitterly. "Probably not. He always was mother's fav..." He trailed off, his eyes growing darker, and turned away from James to look back at his sketch.

James resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Sirius had been doing this a lot lately. Not completing a sentence, getting that haunted look in his eyes, and turning away. He suspected it was something to do with the letter he had received from Regulus a few days ago. Sirius had been fine before that.

James searched his head desperately for a change of subject, mentally cursing Sirius's family the entire time. This was all their fault. Sirius deserved better. It was amazing that, even after being berated for years by his family, that he had come out so open hearted and friendly. James didn't know how he did it.

"Did you hear from Moony?"

"What?"

"Did you hear from Moony?"

James grinned, pleased that he didn't have to come up with new subject after all. "Yesterday. Didn't I tell you?" When Sirius shook his head, he continued. "Oh. Well, he's coming next week, after the full moon. Peter's arriving the day after that."

"It'll be good to see them." Sirius's eyes had lost their darkness and he grinned at the thought of seeing the other Marauder. "I hope Moony'll be ok, though. Remember what happened last time?"

James winced, nodding. During the last full moon at Hogwarts, he, Peter, and Sirius had been late in arriving at the Whomping Willow. By the time they had transformed and arrived inside the Shrieking Shack, the werewolf had already bitten himself viciously on his front leg, leaving a deep gash. For days afterwards it had given the now-human Remus pain. "Yeah, and he doesn't have us at his place."

"He should be fine. His parents'll take care of him."

"It'll be good to have the four of us together again."

"Yep. Marauders don't do so well on their own." Sirius stretched his arms above his head, yawning. "And talking of Marauders, isn't it Peter's birthday soon?" At James's nod, he frowned slightly. "I hate it when people have birthdays. I never know what to get them."

"Why not that comic series he was talking about the other day?" Sirius's eyes lit up slightly and James grinned wickedly before adding in a slow drawl, "Oh, actually, I'm sorry. I forgot. That's what _I've_ gotten him."

Sirius glared at him and replied sarcastically, "Haha. Did I even ask your opinion?" He paused. "In fact, _have_ I ever asked your opinion?"

"Yes," James promptly replied. "Fourth year. You were going to ask Kelly Jones out. Again."

Sirius frowned. "I don't remember that."

"You were scared she'd throw her drink in your face," James reminded him. "Like she did on your first date. And your second one."

"Oh, yes. Her. She was one scary girl. Bloody gorgeous, though. Think she'll still be out for my

blood next term?"

The two of them headed out of the room, still discussing Kelly Jones. Halfway down the stairs, James straddled the banister and slid the rest of the way down. Sirius grinned and continued walking. James never walked down stairs if he could help it. Sirius suspected that he'd even slide the banisters at Hogwarts if it wasn't for the fact that the staircases would decided to move every now and then.

They both sat down in the lounge, still talking. Their conversation ranged from girls to school to who the Hogwarts house elves liked better, all while playing chess.

"I heard from Lily Evans the other day," James mentioned at one point, after his pawn had been taken by Sirius's rook.

"Really? What did she say?"

"Oh, this and that," James replied airily, then, when Sirius looked sceptical, added, "What? Don't you believe me?"

Sirius raised his eyebrows in reply. The last time James and Lily had seen each other it had been on the train back to London. Sirius could still remember innocently walking down the corridor and spotting the two of them standing together and talking. To his surprise, it looked like they were having a civil conversation.

At least, until a remarkable display of fireworks had come shooting out of the end of her wand. James had only just managed to dodge them by leaping into a nearby compartment. It had, unfortunately, held the leading members of the unofficial 'I Love James Potter' club. "I barely escaped with my life," he had later boasted to Sirius. "Or, at least, my pants."

James sighed. "Yes, all right, she didn't just spontaneously write me a letter. I wrote to her first about her O. results."

"Ok." There was a pause. "_Why_?"

James grinned proudly. "I had a bet with Wormtail that I couldn't get her to write to me. He owes me two galleons."

Sirius nodded, grinning back. "Evans can't ever resist gloating, can she?"

James rolled his eyes. "Apparently not. That girl is too proud of her grades. She's still cute, though. Especially when she's mad."

"You're a lost cause, Potter."

Their conversation, now focusing on Lily's odd study habits, continued while they played. The game, which had started off friendlily enough, was now increasing in its fierceness. James grinned in satisfaction as his queen destroyed Sirius's knight. "I told you I'd win, Sirius." He sighed dramatically. "But when did you ever listen to me?"

"Shut up. We both know you cheated." Sirius studied the board, frowning. "Um... rook to-"

But where he was about to send his rook to, James never heard because he was interrupted by a suddenly knock on the front door. James stood. "Probably one of my crazy neighbours. 'Oh, James, darling,'" he mimicked in a high, plummy voice as he began to walk out of the lounge. "'I thought it would be lovely if you could meet my niece, Louise, who's coming to stay..." He had to stop his tale of Louise there, though, because he had almost reached the door. Sirius continued studying the chess board, wondering if his trap would work, when he froze, suddenly hearing a very familiar voice:

"Hi, I was wondering if... Oh shit. Potter."

Sirius scrambled to his feet and ran out of the room, nearly tripping over a footstool in his haste. He ran to the door, skidding to a stop a step away from bumping into James, peering over his best friend's shoulder out at the fifteen-year-old standing on the doorstep. He was breathless when he spoke.

"Reggie."

**Well? Worth the wait or not? And I promise I'll try to get the next chapter up soon. Once again, so sorry about the wait!**


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